


reverse

by fifteen_half



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Gen, Time Travel, but at least it's hayato now!, yes the trope's been done a hundred times
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-08 06:05:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3198197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fifteen_half/pseuds/fifteen_half
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Giannini fiddles with the Ten Year Bazooka, it's Hayato who gets hit with it. Except he isn't thrown ten years into the future. And his trip doesn't last for five minutes.</p><p>(or, a time travel fic where gokudera and g meet)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When the pink smoke clears, Hayato unconsciously looks down at himself and curses. _Passionately_. Ducking into an alley, then thanking whatever gods there may be upon seeing an unattended clothesline, he snatches a pair of breeches and a white shirt then hurriedly puts them on.

Seriously. Since when did the Ten Year Bazooka send people to the future _near naked_? At least it left his underwear on, but _dear god_ , if the adult Tenth saw him like that...! Already plotting to take out all his embarrassment on the stupid cow, even if it hadn't been technically his fault (it had been Giannini who fiddled with the damn thing in the first place), Hayato smirks in anticipation of it. Yes, at seventeen he's matured quite well-- he's successfully cut back on his smoking for one, and he's less temperamental now as well, but venting on Lambo is just something he can't quite let go. It's childish, Hayato knows, but it's something that's _normal_ for the Family.

Because he's less prone to emotional outbursts now, certainly he's calmed down a lot, Hayato had realized that even something as simple as that could put a smile on the Tenth's face. Granted, it's an exasperated, _why-is-this-happening_ smile, but it's infinitely better than the strained smile the Tenth keeps on putting during meetings upon meetings upon meetings...

Speaking of meetings, he'd been on his way to one before that stupid bazooka fired and sent him here... wherever here is. Looking closely at his surroundings, and immediately finding it strange, Hayato can't help the deep frown growing across his face. Sure, the last time he'd been to the future it had been crumbling like this. But hadn't they stopped that future from happening? And these clothes as well... breeches? In the 21st century?

And, more importantly... hasn't it been already more than five minutes?

Heart thumping wildly in his chest, remembering with stark clarity the last time something like that happened, Hayato grabs a blanket off of the clothesline (silently promising to return it, once he gets the chance to), drapes it around himself then inches towards the edge of the alley. Immediately he frowns at the ground, trying to think of a place where the streets are cobblestone. Definitely not in Japan. Italy, then?

Walking towards where there is light, Hayato wonders where everyone is. No one seems to be around. Looking to the skies and noting the position of the moon, he deduces it to be a little past midnight. Perhaps future Hibari had placed a curfew? It's certainly not beyond the prefect.

Suddenly, he hears hoof-beats in the distance. Stepping just shy of what seems to be the main street, he looks towards the direction of the noise, wondering if people had regressed back to using horses for transportation in the future.

Except the vehicle doesn't exactly look future-like, once it comes into view. Just an old looking carriage, like in those black and white movies Shamal forces him to watch.

Hayato stares intently at it, even as it rushes past. Thoroughly confused, Hayato walks into the street, feels every dirt and mud and grime from it now coating his bare feet, looks around and looks and looks and looks until he sees it-- a date, on one of the odd looking shops lining the street.

 _1698_ , it reads.

Hayato lets out a breath. Then curses, _passionately_ : "Holy shit!"


	2. Chapter 2

Seven weeks.

Seven long, long weeks since his arrival and Hayato still doesn't know why he's here or how to go back. The only thing he has are theories; theories ranging from another time-traveling tampering machine like the one Irie built to basically him just getting screwed over.

He doesn't know what he prefers best.

In the time he's been here though, Hayato knows that most of his theories aren't possible. Any time-traveling tampering machine couldn't possibly exist in this time-- no one would be able to get the correct materials to build the damn thing. And he couldn't stomach being stuck here _just because_ so he had thrown that one right away. The only thing he could think of, as cliche as it sounds, is that he's needed to do something before he's allowed to go back to his time.

What that _something_ _is_ is currently beyond him.

Without the Hyper Intuition, the only thing Hayato can rely on is his knowledge. It's a vast amount of knowledge true, but as far as he can tell, history's pretty much right on track. That is, in 17th century Italy, life had been absolutely horrible. Economic decline, conflicts and revolts all around... not to mention, the continued threat of the Black Death. It's no wonder why vigilante groups like the Vongola had sprouted during this time-- Hayato's only been here for a month and half, and yet, he's already seen so, so much cruelty and death.

And speaking of the Vongola...

The moment Hayato had accepted that he really is in the past, and that no, he isn't dreaming, Hayato _knew_ that all this must have something to do with the Vongola. Except, with literally just the clothes on his back, getting to the Vongola mansion is proving to be quite a daunting task.

In this moment, however, thoughts of the Vongola are far from his mind. The only thing there is just this: food.

In his life, Hayato's never been so _thankful_ of the time he'd lived in the streets of Italy. Having already lived penniless and powerless for _years and years and years_ , Hayato had quickly acclimated into the predicament he'd found himself in. If he's hungry? No problem. His hands still remember how to nick coins from pockets or fruits from unattended stalls. Shelter? Easy. No matter what time period it is, there will always be an alley or an alcove or a priest trying to convince his people that he has a big heart.

He isn't _okay_ by any means. He can't even remember the last time he's had decent sleep, can't remember how many times he's been beaten and left on the streets because he got caught stealing, or because some bastard didn't like the way he looked. Sometimes, he doesn't even recognize his own reflection anymore-- he's gaunt, and pale, and thin, and so, so filthy. And yet, he's surviving, which is all that matters anyway.

Pulling his "borrowed" coat around himself tighter, he hunches his back against the cold and starts hunting.

He'll get to Giotto's mansion somehow. He knows this from the bottom of his heart. It may take a while, and a lot of suffering on his part, but he'll make it.

Hayato has given himself no other option but this.

 

* * *

 

Collapsing gratefully in an empty alley, Hayato gingerly pulls out a rushlight from the inner pocket of his coat, carefully lighting it up. Placing it in a tin cup he'd filched somewhere a long time ago, Hayato sighs as he takes in his surroundings, barely illuminated by the small, hastily-made rushlight.

Rushlights had been one of the things Hayato had forced himself to learn to make the first couple of days. In this century where streetlights are just starting to be used, getting around in the streets at night without any light at all had been very difficult. More than once he'd lamented that he'd come without his Vongola Gear, or any ring he could use to at least give him light, or even a bit of warmth for the night, but more than once he'd also told himself that having these items would only bring trouble. They hadn't existed at this point in time, after all. Who knows what it could do to the future?

So, so weary, Hayato lays down on the cold, filthy floor, wincing every now and then from his various cuts and bruises. Curling around himself, his back to the wall for protection and for what little warmth it could give, Hayato pulls his knees as far and as tight as he can to his chest then closes his eyes and prays for a good, uneventful night. He's been rudely woken up with a foot in his gut for a couple of times already, and tonight, at least for this just _one night_ , he hopes he could safely sleep till morning.

It doesn't happen.

Instead, he's woken up by the sounds of a fight nearby.

Sitting up quickly and quietly, Hayato sharply surveys his surroundings. In the distance, he could barely see four or five figures, shadows in the near darkness. From the looks of things, it's three or four against one and the one, obviously, is at a clear disadvantage.

Besides, one of the men had just taken out a pistol and is now aiming at that one man.

Though he has no idea what the brawl is about, and he doesn't know who truly is in the right or wrong, Hayato only hesitates for a while before jumping into the fray. He's weak, his strength barely what it had been before coming here, but he throws himself at the man with the pistol anyway, knocking him out cold by using the force of his run to slam the man against the wall.

The others are confused only for a moment. That one man, a man whose hair glints suspiciously like wine in the moonlight, takes the opportunity and takes down another one. Hayato quickly takes care of the other, before turning to face the one left.

The man's livid, glaring at the man beside Hayato with much, much hate. For a moment, Hayato isn't sure if he's done the right thing, if he'd chosen the right side, until,

"You will regret this, Vongola. Next time, it will not be as easy."

Heart racing upon hearing the words, Hayato barely registers the man's glare turning to him, barely registers the quick look of surprise in his expression before turning away, a thoughtful frown on his face.

He's so incredibly stunned that he flinches when the man beside him claps him on the back, uttering a small, "I owe you," to him. It's an annoying reaction Hayato thought he'd lost long ago, when he met the Tenth, when there had been no need to watch his own back anymore. An annoying habit that had come back full force when he'd realized that he could again depend on _no one_ but himself.

Forcefully shaking the thought away, Hayato turns to face the Vongola, his mind already racing with what to say, how to make the man agree to let him meet with Giotto, how to explain _everything_ to Giotto once he meets him. But the words die on his lips when Hayato sees just who he is with.

Similarly stunned, the man unconsciously takes a step back, then scowls in suspicion at Hayato. He takes a menacing step forward, only to stop in surprise when Hayato's breath hitches reflexively, his eyes filling with fear for a moment. Scowling at the involuntary reaction, Hayato looks away, thoroughly ashamed.

G, on the other hand, is used to people backing away from him in fear. But in his eyes, Hayato is just a _child_. A suspicious one for sure, for how could someone _look so much like him_ , but a child nevertheless. Concerned now, because now that he's looking, it's achingly apparent how weak Hayato is, how he's practically shaking from the cold air, how he's just barely keeping it all together. So G stops, tries to look gentle, welcoming, trying to imitate that irritating, music-obsessed friend of his.

When Hayato finishes gathering himself back together, he turns back to G, an explanation ready on his lips. Seeing the expression on the older man's face, however, leaves him once again speechless.

He's heard Reborn mention how alike the Tenth Generation is to the First. Not just in physical appearance, but in personality as well. Hayato hadn't really believed in the Arcobaleno then, because knowing something like that 400 years after just isn't possible, but now...

Completely forgetting where he is and what just happened, Hayato snorts inelegantly then bursts into peals of laughter.

"You," he gasps, struggling to breathe because _damn it_ his entire body still _hurts_ , "You're trying to imitate someone you don't like, aren't you?"

Hayato has never met Asari Ugetsu, but he recognizes that look on the other man's face-- it's the same one he sees on his after all, whenever he tries to calm someone down, because for some reason, that baseball-freak is really good at it and Hayato... just isn't.

Busy trying to get himself under control, Hayato doesn't see the flickers of suspicion, then annoyance, and then amusement from the First Storm Guardian. G has never been someone who smiles easily, but for some reason, his lips curl upwardly as he watches the boy struggle to get his sanity back.

Noticing how Hayato is tenderly wrapping his arms around his chest, G thinks back and wonders if one of the men who had wanted him dead had hit the boy anywhere. When Hayato's laughter finally dies down, G gently grasps the other's shoulder and asks, "Are you well? Were you hit anywhere a while ago?"

Hayato looks up at the First Storm Guardian, immediately a little jealous of the other's height, and shakes his head in response. "I wasn't hit anywhere. This is nothing, really."

"Are you certain?" G makes sure.

"I-- yes. I'm fine. Nothing a good night's sleep can't fix."

Somehow still unsatisfied with the answer, but knowing he had to leave, because who knows what Giotto might do once he realizes that G isn't where he's supposed to be, G takes all the money he has on him then gives it to Hayato. There's a feeling at the back of his head that he _should not_ leave the boy here (the boy looks like an _exact replica_ of his younger self after all, who knows what trouble this could bring the boy?), but G can't make himself bring the boy with him. There's danger in the Vongola now; it isn't safe, even with all of them there.

So he does the next best thing. G tells Hayato, "Take it. All of it. It should be more than enough to find yourself a good place to sleep in, and meals to put a little weight in you, too."

Eyes wide, Hayato looks at amount of money in G's hand, unable to think of a proper response. He's finally found someone from the Vongola! This isn't what he wants to happen!

G, misinterpreting Hayato's lack of response, takes Hayato's hands and firmly presses the coins into them. He tugs Hayato's hands urgently, holding them tight as he leans down and looks straight at Hayato, "Listen. Listen to me. Once you've rested, you _must_ leave. Leave this place and go away as far as you can. You helped me this night, and I am grateful. This amount can't repay what you've done, but this is all I can do right now. There is great danger here," G warns, his entire stature serious, "If I could, I would have taken you with me--,"

"Then do it!" Hayato interrupts, tugging his hands away from G, "I don't care about the danger!" Hayato yells, near desperate now, "I can take care of myself-- I've been taking care of myself! You won't have to know I'm even there at all! Please, please Signor G!"

Upon hearing his name, G's entire demeanor changes. He backs away from Hayato, a frown on his face.

"How do you know-- _who are you_? And why do you look--,"

At the corner of his eye, G catches something move. He notices Hayato see it as well, just a tad bit faster than he, because he's moving before G registers what's happening, moving before G even realizes that it's the man Hayato had slammed into the wall, moving in front of him when the man aims the pistol.

And fires.

Warmth seeps into his clothes, into his face, his hair. He kills the man before he even realizes what he's done.

"...why?" he asks, falling to his knees beside the boy curling on the floor against the pain. Even in the dim light, G can see the ugly hole in the boy's shoulder.

Hayato wants to answer the older man; wants to tell him that it's because he's _important_ , because he thinks this is the only way he can go home, because he's really from the future and he wants to go home, just wants to go _back home_ and go back to normal. Not this. This place is horrible and cruel and Hayato isn't even sure he can survive much longer. There's nothing familiar, there's no one familiar. The _family_ isn't here.

But the _painpainpain_ is preventing him from doing much of anything. It's just his shoulder but he feels like his entire body is _engulfed_ with white hot pain.

He's been hit with bullets before; he can't even remember how many times it's been-- but _this._ With such crude bullets, Hayato knows it must have disintegrated the moment it hit him, hence the extraordinary amount of pain. He _knows_ this and yet, the only thing occupying his mind right now is _painpainpainpainpain_.

So when the sounds of someone running reaches them, it's only G who reacts. Moving so that he's in front of Hayato, G readies himself for another attack. This is his fault. A complete stranger is writhing on the floor in _agony_ because of him. The guilt is eating at him already, so if the boy dies now...

His Flame is active and ready when the running stops at the opening of the alley. With the light of his flames, G nearly collapses in relief the moment he recognizes Asari and Knuckle running towards him.

Turning towards Hayato, G gently wipes the blood off the boy's face as he says, "You'll be all right, I promise. All will be well."


	3. Chapter 3

When Gokudera hadn't shown up during negotiations with the Sumiyoshi-kai, Tsuna had been worried but not overly so. His Guardians would be called for an emergency from time to time, and though Gokudera has never failed to inform him when this happens, Tsuna had thought that there would always be a first for everything.

Besides, though now less overbearing, his self-proclaimed right hand man could still tire him with his enthusiasm. It warms his heart that someone could be so loyal to him, but Gokudera's way of proving this to him could be very taxing. And now that he's officially the Tenth, Tsuna didn't need to add any more to the stress.

But it's been seven weeks now. And still no word from his Storm Guardian.

Reborn, in true hitman fashion, did not think of it for too long-- after a week, Reborn had insisted that Tsuna find a replacement. As if it were _that easy_. As if years of fighting side by side meant _nothing_.

It had been the first time Tsuna and Reborn had seriously argued over something. Reborn had been stubborn, but Tsuna never budged. Gokudera might have taken the position by himself, but Tsuna had never felt, at least instinctively, that anyone else could be more deserving.

Tsuna had fought fiercely for Gokudera's place. And, overcome with emotion, Tsuna had cited each and every thing his Storm Guardian had done, surprising even himself by just how much it had been.

In the end, Reborn had nodded, satisfied that his charge had finally begun growing his own backbone without the Dying Will.

And that he'd finally realized the work Gokudera has been doing for him, for all this time, without thanks, or expecting one.

_"Do you think that's why he left?" he'd asked, guilty and ashamed._

_Reborn had shrugged, and if it weren't for the years they'd spent closely together, Tsuna might have missed the worry in the Arcobaleno's eyes._

_"Who knows. Hayato has spent most of his life being rejected. Perhaps he'd realized it would hurt less, if he did it first."_

That had been six weeks ago.

"Gokudera-kun," Tsuna says, voice filled with worry and fear for his friend, "Where are you?"

* * *

In his first bout of wakefulness, Hayato has neither the strength to move, or open his eyes. He felt no pain, just numbness in his entire body. It would have bothered him normally, but his mind could process nothing beyond the sound of his own breathing.

Around him, voices could be heard:

_"He's awake," one of them says, "But why can't he open his eyes? You healed him, didn't you?"_

_"Pistol wounds are complicated. You know this. It will take time."_

_"But--,"_

_"Be calm," someone else says in halting Italian, "He will recover. He is strong. I feel this."_

_A scoff, then: "Ugetsu, if you say that one more time, I swear I--,"_

_"Hush, you two. Our friend needs to rest."_

And then, nothing.

 

When Hayato wakes up next, he wakes up screaming.

In the midst of a nightmare, and burning with fever, Hayato thrashes in his bed, trying to fend off enemies that only he can see. Absolutely terrified, Hayato would have injured himself further had it not been for the feel of gentle hands wiping the sweat off his brow, the feel of someone's hands grasping his own, giving him strength, the sound of someone's voice telling him, _"You are not alone. You are safe. I am right here with you."_

Hayato hears this, over and over, until the nightmare disappears, and morning comes.

 

When Hayato truly wakes up, he panics for a moment at the unfamiliarity of the room. But the feeling of a hand giving comfort remains, and he lets out a small smile.

* * *

_In the present, doctors are confounded by a man they'd found seven weeks prior._

_The man has nothing to identify himself with, and the words he utters are indistinguishable. Definitely not Japanese._

_"How is he, our mystery man?" one asks._

_"Still has fever, but he's hanging in there."_

_"Has he said anything else? Something we can understand?"_

_A shrug, "A nurse recognized some words as Italian. Other than that, nothing. We've no clue where he'd come from. Or who he is. The bigger mystery though, is his illness. Thankfully, no one else seems to be infected by it."_

_"True," the doctor replies, then with wonder says to himself, "the Bubonic Plague in the 21st century. Where in the world did this man come from?"_

 


End file.
